


Follow one Thread

by WingletBlackbird



Series: Star Wars Fictober Challenge [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Culture, F/M, Mythology - Freeform, Naboo - Freeform, Oneshot, Star Wars Fictober, Starwarsfictober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingletBlackbird/pseuds/WingletBlackbird
Summary: After the fireside conversation with Anakin, Padme returns to her bedroom and strengthens her resolve using her grandmother's teachings and Naboo's mythology.





	Follow one Thread

Prompt: Emotion

Padme walks back to her room slowly and stiffly, her gait suffers from the strength it takes to contain her fragile emotional state. She is a respected politician, and Nabu help her, she will maintain her rationality. She refuses to be lost in this daze. Slowly Padme enters her bedroom, turns and closes the door behind her, being careful to make as little noise as possible. She leans her back against it, and lets out a slow breath, as she slides down onto the floor. With no more witnesses, there’s no need for the illusion of strength and resolve. Here she does not need to hide how much she had wavered under Anakin’s gaze, and his guileless, honest declarations.

She curls up on herself. This is her fault, utterly her fault. She had been the elder: The one with the sense to see the danger coming. Ani, dear sweet Ani, he was younger, naïve about these things, and she loves him; she does. She can admit that if only to herself, but he’s so young. She is not, not as much as he is anyway. She should have known better, but she’d allowed herself to get swept away in his enthusiasm, in his boyish charm. She’d wanted to forget for once, just once in her life, the myriad of responsibilities that lay on her shoulders. Here, in isolation, amongst the memories of her youth before politics, she’d allowed herself to pretend like she was just Padme, and not also Amidala: How selfish, how foolish. Today, reality comes spilling back, and Padme finds she is unable to even cry. The ache inside her clings to the innermost depths of her being; tears would be inadequate. You cannot cry away what has become a piece of your identity. Padme knows she will live with the “what-ifs” of this moment for the rest of her life, as she has with so many sacrifices she’s made in her short life, but she learned at a very tender age to respect the power of Ithanne.

Padme had only been eight years old when she had gone to Theed to live with her grandmother: So very young. She had been determined to be like Daddy and Uncle Ono who had helped so many refugees. She’d seen all those people hurting, and she had just wanted to help. She was determined and would see no other course. (The faces of all of those children who had died with their sun, crying, moaning,  _screaming_ in agony, haunting her dreams…) It had been so simple. Back then, it had been simple. She’d been groomed in politics by the best teachers, and the strictest masters, but it had been her grandmother who had taught her the most important things. Her greatest support, and the fount of the deepest wisdom, she’d made Padme believe she could do anything. She’d also taught her how to be the best at it. She’d taught her all of the old stories of Naboo’s history, and culture, and what they all meant, and Padme had felt connected to all the people who had come before her. She had anticipated the future that lay ahead. Even now, she could see her beloved grandmother at her loom, weaving beautiful tapestries, telling her stories. It had been so soothing.

“Do you see, Padme,” Ammi would say, “how the threads all weave together? Each one a different colour, each one a different purpose, each one important but only from a distance can you see what the truth will be. Only the Mornae know the final product.” Turning her piercing blue-eyes on her granddaughter she would add, “Fate is a tangle, Padme. Follow one thread.”

Padme had spent countless hours at her grandmother’s side. She could still smell the scent of wood, and thread in the air, still hear the movements of the loom, still see the dust motes that reflected the sunlight shining in from the window on the right, still see her grandmother lost in her work. When she closes her eyes, she sees it like it was yesterday, or even five minutes ago. Padme had sat on a small stool by the window, and spoke to her grandmother about her day, about her thoughts, and her lessons. Here, Winama Naberrie, had bestowed upon her the wisdom of ages. With a kindness, but a sense of knowledge about her that Padme could never have ignored.

“Follow one thread, Padme.”

So, she had. She had devoted herself to politics, had chosen her path, had heeded the warnings: The warnings that to follow the one thread, to stay on the path, you had to avoid being lead astray. There were three understandings of love on Naboo. There was selfless love for people/community, family love, and passionate love, in precisely that order of importance. The latter, passion, the most mistrusted emotion, was the domain of the goddess Ithane, who was also the goddess of war. Both were equally irrational pursuits after all. (Not that the fools in the Senate ever seemed to understand that…) Ithane was dangerous.  _Passion_  was dangerous. It drove you to do the irrational. It compelled you to neglect responsibilities. You could lose yourself in obsession. It might be useful if applied to noble pursuits like politics perhaps, but to centre your desire on one person was dangerous. Ithane was both respected and feared; she could prop a government up, as surely as she could topple it down. Ithane could drive you mad and destroy lives, all for the sake of short-lived passion. She was never someone you could rely on. She was unpredictable. There was no logic in Ithane. That was the futility of her. You never knew what you would get, how it would end. It scares Padme to love Anakin like that. It is not safe, not at all.

Padme knows the stories. She knows of Naboo’s first Queen Elsinore who had brought the colonists to Naboo. She knows the Queen had been tempted to stay with her love on a different planet, but had sacrificed that desire for her people. Elsinore was respected. She knows of Hanial, who had betrayed her clan for love, and many had suffered for it. Hers was a cautionary tale. Padme knows who she wants to be like. If there is war on the horizon, she wants to shepherd her people through it like Elsinore had. She does not want to lose herself, just because the greatest temptation of her life has been thrown at her. Naboo, had been so named after the god of wisdom, Nabu. He is the king of the gods. He is the one to respect. He is rational. He is the one whose territory Padme had devoted herself to protect. He is the one she was going to listen to. He is security. He is safe.

“Follow one thread, Padme.”

So, she had. She wonders now, if she had known the sacrifices that would entail, if she would still have done so. Maybe that’s the real reason why the Naboo elected their monarchs so young: They carried their ideals, and did not yet understand what it would cost them. She sighs and shakes her head, tilting her head upward as tears begin to pool in her eyes. She does not let them fall. She knows if she could convince the fates to unweave her life, she would change nothing.  Without her, Naboo may well have suffered decades under Federation occupation. She could never live with the knowledge that she had allowed that to happen. People, her family, were terribly fond of telling her to do what made her happy, but how could she be happy if it came at the cost of the happiness of others? No one  _ever_ seems to understand, as they, like her mother, like her sister, nag away at her to “settle down.” (It’s so annoying, and frustrating, and they wonder why she doesn’t come home more often…She laughs bitterly as she wonders what everyone would think of Anakin, a commoner of unknown paternity. Helping such people was all well and good, but  _marrying_ them. She wishes intensely that she could.) She is trapped by her very nature to never have what she wants. 

No, she can’t. She could hardly leave the Senate with war on the horizon. She wouldn’t keep Anakin from being a Jedi. (He’d resent her in the end, anyway. He was born to be great. She could not strip that from him. He hadn’t been thinking straight. He was so young. Did he even really know what he wanted? He was just getting swept away. Surely, he must.) She couldn’t allow the Republic to suffer those consequences. She doesn’t trust anyone else to do it right. She finds her resolve again, and stands up. She walks around her bed, to her small chest of keepsakes, and pulls out a datapad containing a letter her grandmother had written her before her coronation. This letter always affords Padme great strength in times of distress. Padme uses it now to keep her decision firm.

My darling Granddaughter,

Words cannot express the pride I feel today as I viewed you standing before the Nabooan people, and before the gods, to take your oaths. You have worked very hard for this opportunity, Padme, and I am sure you will do your clan and your people credit. This is a great honor, my dear, and you have every right to feel great satisfaction in what you have accomplished. I would implore you though, granddaughter, not to allow such emotion to make you complacent. Great temptations lie ahead.

You are taking the throne in a time of deep instability for our people, and you must never forget your sacred duty. The people will need your strength and leadership in the months to come. You have already observed the corruption of King Veruna. Such corruption stems from the spurious belief that it is the right of a leader to be served, and for his power to be glorified. This, my darling, is untrue. You to whom the gods have granted great gifts, and have been afforded great power because of them, are now obliged to use such influence to the best advantage of your people. If you are ever tempted to rest, to allow yourself to give in to dangerous and selfish indulgences at the expense of your people, to presume that one such transgression will not matter, I would implore you to remember that if you cannot even discipline yourself, you’ve no right to wear the crown.

This is why I suggested to you to take on a regnal name. Henceforth, my child, you shall be two people Amidala, and Padme Naberrie. You will find that these two individuals will frequently be at odds with one another. However, in all disagreements that these two will have, Amidala must always win. Amidala represents the desires and sanctity of all, including Padme, but Padme is just one young girl in a macrocosm. Never presume that your desires may supersede those of your peoples. Your duty must be placed first, and it is because this is a sacrifice that your actions will hold great meaning. Without pain, it would be easy; it would mean nothing. The temptations placed before us, grant us struggles which enhance our beauty. It is the greatest of leaders who will suffer so that their people might not. I am confident that you are capable of this. (As always, I am very proud of you.)

My words are firm, Padme, but I do not wish you to be unhappy. I merely want you to understand the burdens of your position. Be generous, but do not allow yourself to be taken advantage of. Be patient, but do not fear action. Think rationally, but love your people. Be their heart. Be wary of those who would use you to their own ends, but treasure the genuine friend. Enjoy every small moment that you can. As the magnitude of your burdens increase, you must learn to savour all of the small moments. These are gifts. Enjoy yourself in all moments that you are able. I would never ask you to not be Padme; she is my beloved granddaughter, and I desire to see her fulfilled. I merely caution you to not let her jeopardize the crown, for that will doom her people, but rest assured, it will also doom you.

Now your servant,

Ammi

Padme breathes in and nods her head once firmly. Staring into the mirror she sees determination reflected back at her. People may never know what she sacrifices today for the Republic, but there is beauty in doing good that will never be known. It is goodness for it’s own sake. This is powerful. Padme is in pain, but she is proud. She cannot reconcile the desires of Amidala and Padme tonight, so she knows who must win. Ithane is the goddess of war and of love. She will not allow war to win, what she has fought so hard to prevent, because she also fell in love. If they come together, than she will drive both away. She will not give in to it. In the back of her mind, she remembers telling Anakin, when he was still just a boy, “Our fates are bound together.” She always felt his thread of life tied to hers. The Mornae are ever weaving their tapestry. She does not know what it means, what Fate plans, or to what end their threads will be entwined, but she is determined it will not come if it means destruction. 


End file.
